


Daddy's Toy

by phantisma



Series: Daddy Kink Verse [73]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: BDSM, Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-07
Updated: 2009-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris pushes Jeff for more information about Mitch and the collar and Jeff's past. Jeff tries to distract him, which works, right up until Mitch and Chris actually meet. What happens when three hungry, horny alpha males come together? One thing is certain, it's going to be rough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy's Toy

"It was a long time ago." Jeff says, hoping it will be the end of the conversation. Somehow, he knows it won't be.

"That don't necessarily answer the question." Chris says, knocking back a shot of whiskey before his fingers twirl the glass on the table. "I mean, I get it if you don't want to say. I'm just…I'm curious."

"None of your business." Jeff responds, pouring his own shot. He should leave, because this is clearly going to go no where good, but he's a few drinks in and he's comfortable and fuck but he came here to get laid, not talk about his past.

"Okay." Except this is Chris, so that doesn't mean he's going to let it go. "Steve told me he saw you with him."

Jeff huffs and downs his whiskey and gets up to pace. "Yeah, what of it?"

Chris has the decency to look uncomfortable. "I just…I hear things…and I know you have…history."

Jeff isn't really sure what the boy is fishing for, and it almost sounds like he's jealous or something. "History? Is that what's got your panties in a wad?" Jeff snorts and shakes his head. "You gonna tell me about every guy you ever fucked now too?"

Chris flashes a grin at him. "If you want…pretty boring stuff though…nothing compared to sex clubs and masks and collars." His eyes flash up at Jeff with the last word, expectation and desire in them.

"Which of those boys been talking?"

Chris shrugs and grunts. "I told you, I hear stuff."

"Didn't figure you were the collaring kind, Christian." Jeff says with a smirk. "I'm sure I could find one if you're telling me you want me to take you for a ride."

Chris raises an eyebrow and pours more whiskey. "Right, cause that'd be easy."

Jeff crosses his arms and turns to stare at him. "Is that a challenge?"

He holds up both hands in a surrendering gesture. "Easy, old man…just making conversation."

Jeff crosses the distance between them, puts his hands on the arms of Christian's chair and gets up into his face. "Really? Because from where I'm standing it sounds an awful lot like you're telling me to try."

Blue eyes flash fire up at him, Chris grabbing his wrists and pushing Jeff back. "We ain't in your house, old man. My house, my rules." His voice is a dark growl as he stands and Jeff feels it in his cock. And it isn't even really his house, but Jeff isn't going to argue.

"Yeah?" Jeff lets Chris crowd him back into the wall. "And what are you're rules, boy?"

"My rules say you get naked and I fuck you over the kitchen table." Chris responds, his hands on Jeff's belt now. "You think you can handle that?"

"Think I can handle you." Jeff growls back, his own hands pulling on his shirt. This is more what he had in mind when he'd driven over here, something quick and dirty, without the complications that sometimes got in the way with Jensen and Jared.

Chris gets inside his jeans, fisting his cock hard and fast, pulling a grunt out of Jeff as he fumbles his shirt and finally drops it. "Lube?" Chris grins at him, but it's an evil grin, one that tells Jeff that Christian _fucking_ Kane ain't gonna make this easy.

His jeans pool at his knees and Chris tugs at his cock, drawing him back toward the table. It's awkward and he stumbles, catching himself on the edge of the table and pulling one leg free of his jeans.

Chris uses the momentum to his advantage, shoving Jeff into the table, kicking his legs apart, one hand in the small of Jeff's back, the other releasing his cock to slide up over his hip.

He wastes little time, spitting onto his finger and pressing that finger against Jeff's ass, shoving inside him with no foreplay or warning. It's tight and it burns and there's too little spit and too long since he's been on the receiving end, but the heat is all kinds of right and it's clearly making his cock happy.

Then there's more heat and wet and Jeff's breath stutters into him as he realizes that _that_ is his tongue…there…between his fingers. His fist pounds the table and Chris chuckles into him, filling him with air briefly until Chris moves his fingers. "Like that do ya?" Chris asks, his accent thick. His fingers shove in deeper, his tongue flicking at the edges of the hole, opening him slowly until he can manage a third. 

Jeff shoves back at him, urging him to get on with it, even though he knows it will burn…and he isn't wrong. Chris growls and pulls his fingers free, replaces them with the tip of his cock while he spits into his hand and spreads it over himself.

"You ready for me, old man?" Chris asks, voice rough, but he doesn't wait for Jeff to respond, just shoves into him, deep and hard, changing the sharp retort on Jeff's tongue to a long, low groan. "Fuck." Chris pulls both hands to Jeff's hips, holding him as he pulls back out. "Did I hurt you?" There's a softness to the question that seems out of place in the rough growl.

Jeff shakes his head and braces his hands on the table. "Get on with it."

"You're fucking tight." Chris moves back into him a little more slowly, but not by much.

"Been a while." Jeff responds, pushing himself back against Chris. 

Chris answers by snapping his hips, pushing his cock into Jeff's prostate hard enough to make him moan. "Gonna feel me for days, old man." Chris growls as he steps up his pace, and Jeff lets go with one hand to fist his cock in time to Chris' thrusting.

Sweat rolls down his spine, off his chin as pre-come begins to leak from him. Chris is mouthing filthy words at him, not quite audibly, but Jeff feels them on his slick skin. He's close and Jeff's not far behind. He pulls harder, faster, clenches around Chris inside him and they both tumble over the edge together, Chris coming inside him, Jeff spilling onto the floor under the table.

Chris backs away, and Jeff hears the sound of his zipper, and eases himself up. Chris is smirking at him, reaching for the whiskey. 

"Feel better?" Chris asks, pouring them both shots.

"I feel like I've been fucked and seeing that's why I came here tonight, I guess we can call it better."

"Good. I hate it when you get pissy." Chris downs his shot. 

Jeff pulls up his pants, but decides he's better taking care of the dripping issue first and heads into the bathroom to clean up. By the time he comes out, Chris is on the phone, presumably with Steve, who is somewhere on the east coast doing a series of gigs. 

He holds up a hand to send his hellos through to Steve, and grabs his jacket. It's probably better to duck out know while the boy is distracted because Chris has a one track mind and Jeff knows the conversation would only end up back on Mitch and the goddamn collar.

"Hey, wait a minute." Chris says into the phone. "You leaving?" he asks Jeff, frowning at him.

"Take care of your boy, I need to see to mine." Jeff says, waving at the phone.

"Talk to you tomorrow?"

Jeff nods and heads for the door. He fishes his phone out to call a cab, because he's had enough he shouldn't drive, and he can send the boys out to pick up the car in the morning.

He smokes while he waits, standing outside in the warm LA night. It brings back memories, spurred on by Christian's insistent questions and the recent return of his former Dom to his life.

_He was nervous, hanging in the dark alley outside the club, smoking in a vain attempt to curtail his nerves. He hadn't been into the club, hadn't done anything like this since that one night when he first got to LA. He'd been lonely, and feeling adventurous, toss in a little alcohol and some bad judgment and that had led to the most amazing discovery, and the biggest fears of his life. That had been almost a year ago, and this was his first attempt at trying again._

_It was a different club, something of a mystery that he'd discovered only through some very, very careful conversations with people and a full month's worth of working his way through the various hot spots, industrial clubs, into the goth blubs and finally it had brought him here._

_The men and women he was seeing were certainly dressed like they were looking for the same things he was, lots of leather and metal, piercings and tattoos. There were masks, hand cuffs…he'd even seen a girl on a leash a little while back._

_Jeff took a drag off his…third cigarette since he'd arrived and exhaled it slowly. If he didn't go in soon, he was going to chicken out and it might take him months to get up the nerve to come back._

_"You always put things in your mouth that you shouldn't?"_

_Jeff froze, nothing but his eyes moving. The man wore black denim down to black leather boots, black silk rising up to his shoulders, though it did nothing to hide the fact that he was built. His face and the top of his head was hidden under a mask that reminded him of Zorro, black silk, like the shirt covering down to his nose, with eye holes and a knot at back of his head. "I…" He licked his lips, his heart thundering inside his chest before he makes the decision. "I like putting things in my mouth."_

_The guy smirked, just a little, before it disappeared under a sterner expression. "Didn't your Daddy teach you it ain't nice to tease?"_

_Jeff lifted his eyes, willing himself to take the bite. "Don't have one."_

_"A pretty thing like you is out here all alone? Someone's going to come along and take advantage of that."_

_"I keep hoping." Jeff muttered, looking away. That got him crowded into the wall quicker than he could drop his cigarette._

_"You should be careful what you wish for, boy." Something in the way that voice said that word had Jeff hard inside his jeans and the man knew it. "I may have to take you inside and teach you a lesson in respect. You like that?"_

_Jeff swallowed, his bravado leaking out into his jeans as he nodded. "Y-yes, Sir."_

A honking horn pulls Jeff out of the memory and he drops what's left of his cigarette on the sidewalk, stomping it with his heel before he gets in and offers the driver his address. That night had been the first of several that he and Mitch played together, light scene play at first and building over the next two weeks. Mitch was always Sir and Jeff was always Boy and they never needed more names than that.

At least not until things got a little more serious.

Jeff settles back in the cab for the long ride, remembering how nervous he was that night. They hadn't arranged to meet up, just both managed to be there at the same time and within seconds, Mitch had his hand around the back of Jeff's neck and walking him toward the back.

They had played hard and Jeff had come close to safe-wording at one point with his pants around his knees and a riding crop in Mitch's hand, but Mitch seemed to sense it and backed off, rubbing over the welts already forming and easing Jeff back up off the bench.

When they'd walked out of the club, Mitch didn't let go of him like he normally did. He kept his hand on Jeff's neck and guided them both out toward the cars. 

_Jeff's stomach was flipping inside him, not sure what was happening, not sure he actually wanted anything to be happening. They finally reached a car and he was let go. "Want to talk. Get in."_

_He hesitated, watching this man he'd done the most incredible things with, but still didn't know as much as his name. The guy leaned on the car watching him. "Get in, please. Or we'll consider this our last night together."_

_That was enough to make up his mind. As much as he was nervous about where this would go if he got in the car, the more nervous it made him to think that he would have to go back to looking for someone, and never find someone who seemed to complement him so well. Jeff opened the door and slid into the car. Before he knew it, they were speeding out of the parking lot and off into the night. Neither of them spoke until the car was stopped at an overlook, the bright lights of LA stretched out below them._

_It occurred to Jeff as they got out of the car that this would be a good place to kill someone…toss the body down the hill and it would be days, weeks even before anyone found it. He was a moron._

_"So…ah…talk?" Jeff said, wiping his hands on his pants. His ass hurt and he was uncomfortable as he tried to keep his distance without making it look like he was keeping his distance._

_"Does this make you nervous?" He leaned against the car, his eyes one the city below._

_"No, not at all." Jeff said, though they both knew it was a lie._

_Hands moved and silk slid from a mostly bald head. Dark, piercing eyes turned to Jeff, pinning him in place. "I'm Mitch."_

_Jeff felt himself relax a little, stepping forward as Mitch lifted a hand and extended it toward him. "Jeff."_

_Mitch smiled, a fierce look that was only softened by the amusement in his eyes. "Figured it was time for names and faces."_

_"Oh." Jeff shook his hand, not sure what else he was supposed to do._

_"Don't tell me you weren't curious." Mitch continued. "Disappointed?"_

_"What? No. I…" Jeff shook his head. "Confused maybe."_

_He nodded. "I wasn't looking for someone." Which had nothing to do with Jeff's confession, making Jeff turn back to look at him. "I was just there to blow off some steam before hitting the road…and there you were."_

_Jeff wasn't really following, because he was stuck trying to figure out when Mitch was gone, since he'd seen him every few days since they met. Suddenly he realizes Mitch is still talking and blinks. "What?"_

_Mitch chuckled and shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He stood, walking to the edge of the ravine, arms crossed. "So tell me, Jeff…what is it you were looking for the night we met?"_

_Jeff fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, thinking about the question. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Something…more I guess." He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, exhaling slowly. "Back in Seattle there was this…club. I went one night when I was already a little drunk, and feeling…I wanted something."_

_Mitch was looking at him, he could feel those eyes. "And you found it?"_

_Jeff shrugged. "I found a guy named Joe."_

_"And this Joe introduced you to BDSM?"_

_Jeff licked his lips and nodded slow. "I guess. I mean, I had ideas before that. But, he took me home, and I spent some time with him…It was dumb, stupid really."_

_"Like getting in a car with a man you don't know and letting him drive you out to the middle of nowhere?" Mitch asked with a smirk._

_"Maybe worse…but I was lucky. He was only interested in the sex, not in seriously hurting me." Jeff took a drag on his cigarette. "But I got a taste for it, and I wanted something more."_

_Mitch nodded, looking back at the twinkling lights below them. "And now?"_

_Jeff shrugged and dropped his cigarette under his heel, grinding it out. "I'm not sure what you mean."_

_"You got more, now what is it you want?"_

_Jeff fidgeted, not sure how to answer that. He'd be lying if he said he wanted this to end. Maybe they'd only played so far, light spanking with a hint of more, exhibitionism with a vague notion it could go farther, dominance and submission that seemed to play Jeff's needs like a fine tuned guitar…but it was the hints that tickled his interest, and scared him as well._

_"I honestly wasn't looking for this, and you should know going in that this stays in the dark, no one knows. It isn't something we talk about."_

_Slowly Jeff realized what he was getting at. "You want to…more than the club thing?"_

_"You need a strong hand, Jeff. I can be that."_

_Jeff felt his cock tighten at the thought. "I…hadn't ever really considered…"_

_"There'd be rules, of course. And punishment for breaking them." Mitch turned to watch Jeff. "And we'll need to establish them before we do anything more. So, what do you say?"_

_Jeff didn't say so much as he slipped into posture, head down, hands behind his back. Mitch's hand lifted, his fingers holding Jeff's chin, lifting his face. The kiss was barely that, dry lips brushing over his own. "Been wanting to do that all night."_

 

"Twenty five dollars, thirty cents."

Jeff slips the driver thirty dollars, tells him to keep the change and climbs out of the cab, sighing wearily as he heads into his house. It is quiet, dark. The boys are probably asleep. He isn't in the mood to be very good company anyway. He lets himself in, greets Bisou and heads to the bar for a drink. 

That night had been the beginning of a year of exploration. A year of discovering himself in ways he never expected, and working through some things from his past he'd already thought he'd gotten through.

In a lot of ways, that year had made Jeff the man he is today. Which means, Mitch made Jeff the man he is today. 

Which just opens up the door to a whole lot of thoughts he's maybe not quite ready to cop to. It had been years since it ended. Mitch had landed the X-Files gig and Jeff had started getting movie offers, and he'd closed the door on that part of his life.

Until one night Jared and Jensen had forced it open again.

It's different now, with them. And yet, Mitch walks into a room and Jeff is back to being the same guy that begged for Mitch to use him, fuck him…give him to others to be fucked. In fact he wasn't all that different from Jensen in that regard…a little less uptight about it maybe, even a little bit reckless in some ways…but he liked the pain. He liked the way it made him focus, the way it made everything sharper, more real.

Mitch had made promises and kept them. The collar Jensen wore had been Jeff's, given to him by Mitch about six months in.

_Jeff arrived at the hotel a little early, checked at the desk for the alias Mitch used on nights like this, but he wasn't there yet, so he withdrew to the bar, getting a beer and settling in to keep an eye open._

_He hadn't been expect this, not tonight. They'd had a weekend together just last week, and Mitch was working. The rules were tighter when one of them was working. He'd been surprised then to get the call, Mitch's brisk voice on his voice mail giving him the name of the hotel and a time._

_He was halfway through his beer when he sees him. Mitch caught his eye as he passed the bar and headed for the front desk to check in. By the time Mitch had his key, Jeff was at the elevator waiting casually._

_Mitch slid in beside him, twirling the key in his fingers. There was no conversation, even when the doors opened and they stepped in alone. They both got off on the fifth floor and walked to a door. Mitch opened it and Jeff slipped inside. Mitch tossed his bag on the bed and grabbed the ice bucket, handing it to Jeff._

_He didn't need to be told what to do with it. He propped the door open just enough that he wouldn't need to knock and headed down to the machine. So far, this was pretty normal._

_It wasn't until he got back to the room that there was anything clearly different. For one, Mitch was still dressed. For another, instead of a series of toys laid out on the bed, there was just a box._

_Mitch was standing at the window, hands behind his back, watching Jeff's reaction. Jeff set the ice bucket down, absently shoving in the two beers Mitch always brought with him into the ice._

_"Sir?" Jeff asked, his eyes still on the box. "I thought…"_

_"I know. Just…I wanted to talk to you, and be sure you were listening to me."_

_Jeff licked his lips, his stomach turning over in his stomach. This was it…he'd always known the moment would come. He wasn't enough, he was too clumsy, too fidgety, not fast enough…there were any number of reasons that Mitch would call it off. Hell, the last two times they'd been together, Jeff had come up against some hard boundaries, and while he'd managed one of them, he'd safe-worded out of the other. He couldn't satisfy Mitch's needs and this was Mitch telling him so._

_"I'm listening, Sir." Jeff managed to say without sounding completely miserable._

_The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly, as though he wasn't convinced he believed Jeff. "I've been thinking about last weekend."_

_Jeff succeeded in not groaning out loud and didn't even drop his shoulders. Mitch liked good posture. He started to open his mouth to say something, but Mitch held up a hand. "I'm talking, boy."_

_He nodded and Mitch stepped closer. "I forget sometimes how new you are to all of this, and how proud and stubborn you can be. But I was reminded." Mitch lifted a hand to caress over Jeff's cheek. "You should never be ashamed of that."_

_Jeff could tell from his tone that he meant the way he'd blurted out the safe-word, the way he'd yanked them both out of the moment and sat trembling while he pulled himself together._

_"You weren't ready, and I pushed. There is nothing wrong with using that safety valve, Jeff. That's what it's there for."_

_"I could…I could try again…I know it would make you happy. I can do it, I just…I wasn't ready…but I could be."_

_"That won't be necessary, not tonight." Mitch leaned down and picked up the box, holding it in his nimble fingers, turning it round and round while he paced between the window and Jeff. "I wanted you to know how proud I was of how you handled it, I know I was pushing you…and I haven't really been as supportive as I can be."_

_He stopped at the window, setting the box down on the sill and bracing himself, his back to Jeff. "We never really discussed where this was going to go. We set up rules, which you follow well most of the time. We talked about our immediate wants and needs. Hell, I don't even know if you want this." His hand fell on the box again._

_"This?" Jeff breathed, the thought that he was getting the brush off fading as his curiosity about the box grew._

_Mitch picked the box up, his fingers caressing over it before he crossed back to where Jeff was still standing. "Yeah, this." Mitch opened the box, revealing an interior lined with black silk and on it was a leather collar. It was simple enough, an inch or so wide, with a silver buckle and a silver D-ring in the front._

_For a long moment they both just stared at it, then Jeff blinked up at Mitch, exhaling softly. "It's…wow…it's beautiful. May I?" Mitch nodded and Jeff lifted it, letting his fingers caress over the leather. He'd never really considered something like this, but then…until he met Mitch, he'd never considered anything like what he had with him either._

_"When I was…younger and I had a…mentor, he gave me this." Mitch said softly. "I didn't wear it often, but found that it helped me at those times when we were pushing my limitations, gave me a sense of security, let me know that he was right there, that he cared, that he wasn't going to let me get hurt. It was like having his hand on me, even when he was across the room."_

_Jeff looked up from the collar, startled a little to think that Mitch had ever been…well, in his position._

_"Will you wear it?"_

_To be honest, the thought frightened him a little. It was a shift in their relationship, a change, however small it might seem to anyone else, that was significant. "Can I…can I think about it?" Jeff found himself asking._

_Mitch smiled. "Of course." His hand brushed over Jeff's cheek again before it slipped around to the back of his neck, pulling Jeff in for a surprisingly tender kiss. He took the collar from Jeff's hands, settled it back into its box and dropped the box on the bed._

_"You still…I mean…" Jeff rolled his eyes at his own hesitation. "We have the room…and it's early…" Mitch grinned, pulling him still closer, his hands grabbing a hold of Jeff's ass and squeezing._

_"Always were an eager one, weren't you?"_

The memory of that night, the oddly tender sex that followed, the long, sleepless hours Jeff lay beside Mitch staring at the box, wondering if he could be happy with that collar around his neck all pile in on him, make him hard again and leave him feeling a little bit lonely.

He sips at his drink and palms his cock, not sure if he's trying to get off or get it to go away. He hasn't felt the need for _that_ , for everything that came with putting on that collar in so long, and yet tonight he can feel it rising up inside him.

He had put it on while Mitch slept, creeping into the bathroom with the box. It fit him like it had been made for him, the leather smooth against the skin of his neck. There had been a rush at first, a thrill of…some emotion that wasn't fear and wasn't pleasure…but ran somewhere between the two.

It had filled him with shame and exhilaration at the same time, and when Mitch saw him, when his voice filled the room and his eyes had glittered with desire, Jeff had gone to his knees, dropped instantly into the space where Mitch was everything and he could come just from giving Mitch what he wanted.

Jeff's cock hardens more under his hand and he sighs in frustration, pulling it out and fisting it, remembering how Mitch had taken him there, on the bathroom floor, how Jeff's submission had cranked him up faster than he'd ever seen.

It had been the first of many nights with the collar. Mitch kept the collar, bringing it out when he thought Jeff might need it, or when he had a taste for that submissiveness.

But it had been a private thing, just between them. Jeff had never worn it out the way Jensen did. No one ever saw it but the two of them. And Mitch had given it to Jeff when they both knew it was over, the last time they had played alone.

They had only one night together after that, at one of the higher end clubs that would disappear as soon as the last client left it, and they had said goodbye with a public flogging, finished of with a spanking and a public fuck…a lot like the night they met actually.

When it was over, they'd walked out of the club.

_It was cold, breath puffing on the air as they left the club. Jeff huddled inside his jacket, naked underneath but for the pants, and they were cold enough, his ass still lubed and leaking down the leg, not to mention his own come that was drying around his cock and balls, but at least the cool air took the sting out of the reddened ass cheeks a little. It was going to hurt like fuck come morning, especially if he didn't get home and cleaned up. Mitch sent the valet after his car and looked at him through the mask._

_"You going to be okay getting home, boy?"_

_Jeff squirmed, the word shooting straight to his cock, despite his exhaustion. "Yes, sir. I'll be fine."_

_Mitch nodded, looking out over the parking lot before narrowing his focus and turning those intense eyes on Jeff. "You all packed?"_

_"Yeah, all but a few things. Plane leaves in the morning. My landlady's putting everything in storage for me while I'm gone." He took a drag on his cigarette, willing it to warm him up so he won't fidget. Mitch doesn't like it when he fidgets._

_"You'll be fine." His car was there, the valet handing him the keys. "You call if you need anything."_

_"I will. Thank you, Sir." Mitch smiled at him, a deep, genuine smile as he slipped behind the wheel and pulled the mask loose. Jeff felt that in his cock too._

_"Your car, sir?"_

_Jeff shook his head, pointing to the cab at the curb. "Cab. Thanks."_

And that had been that. Right up until Jensen had called him from his trailer and Jeff had heard Mitch's voice again.

"Fuck."

Jeff fists himself harder, faster, thinking about the sounds Jensen made while Mitch worked him over, thinking about the way Mitch just stepped in like he'd been there all along.

Before he can stop himself, he's coming, filling his hand.

"Jeff?" There's a sleepy voice behind him and Jeff turns to see Jensen at the bottom of the stairs in nothing but his boxers. "You okay?"

"Did I wake you?" Jeff asks, deflecting the question. He downs the last of his drink and tucks himself in as he stands, his come-filled hand behind his back as if he's ashamed of having done it.

"No…just…body clock's all out of whack." Jensen rubs at his eyes and pads closer. "Jared, as usual, isn't having that problem. Fucker."

Jeff chuckles and shakes his head. 

"I thought you were seeing Chris tonight?"

"Did, came home. Like my own bed." Jeff heads for the kitchen so he can wash his hands, hoping Jensen doesn't follow. He does, but keeps a fair distance between them, and doesn't say anything about the smell of come that follows them. Jeff washes his hands and grabs a towel before leaning in to kiss Jensen softly. 

"He ask you about the collar?" Jensen's eyes are dark, concerned.

"Some. Told him it was none of his business."

Jensen snorts at him. "He ask about Mitch?"

Jeff sighs and nods. "Told him that was none of his business too."

"Like that's going to stop him." Jensen slides a hand into his and draws him back to the living room. "He'll keep asking. Best you just give him what he wants."

"And what is it he wants?" Jeff asks, because it's clear Jensen has it figured out.

Jensen smirks. "He wants you and Mitch to show him exactly who is in charge." He kisses Jeff lightly. "I'll deal with the collar…we have…plans. But I can't help with what he wants from the two of you."

Jeff narrows his eyes at Jensen. "What plans?"

"Don't worry, Daddy. They involve you. And me with the collar. And Chris. In the cage."

And just like that Jeff is hard yet again, remembering the last time he had Chris in that cage, watching while Jeff fucked his boy. Jensen is grinning at him. "Want me to help you with that?" His hand cups around Jeff's cock inside his jeans, jacking him slow. 

Jeff growls and shoves him toward the couch, and Jensen gets the hint, tugging his boxers down as he goes and bending over pretty as you please. It's been a while and the boys have only been in town a few hours, but clearly they'd done their own kind of unwinding because Jeff sinks into him on the slide of lube, hissing as his tender cock protests the quick recovery. 

Jensen's ass is hot and slick and he groans obscenely as Jeff fucks him, reaching under himself to fist his own cock. It's over faster than Jeff thinks it should be, having already come twice, but his cock doesn't seem to care, and Jensen is grinning up at him from the couch a few seconds later.

"I'm going to watch some TV, see if I get tired…want to join me?"

Jeff shakes his head and tucks himself in. "I'm going to bed. You wore me out."

He heads for the stairs, knowing it isn't Jensen's doing, it's the damn memory center of his brain he can't shut off. When he falls asleep, it just shifts gears, filling his dreams with Mitch and the collar and Christian.

And that is how he knows he is doomed.

It doesn't take much.

He is hanging at the bar where Chris and the boys hang when they aren't playing a gig somewhere, sipping on a shot of whiskey and feeling Christian's eyes watching him. The boy is hot and needs a strong hand tonight, but he's playing it cool, shooting pool with some younger actors, making sure Jeff gets a long look at his ass in them jeans every time he takes a shot.

He's just about had enough, his cock hard, his attitude harder, ready to haul the boy into the men's room and bend him over the sink, fuck his ass while he mouths obscenities into the mirror when he feels someone slide into place next to him.

Jeff looks and freezes half way off the stool. "How you doing, boy?" Mitch says, a sparkle in his eye as it sweeps over Jeff's body, down to his cock. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. "That good, eh? Which one of your boys is here tonight?" He cranes his neck to look, and Jeff sees it on his face when he spots Chris.

He turns slowly. Chris is staring at them, and even at this distance, Jeff can tell he's hard. His face is turning red, the smile hard on his lips. He's somewhere between jealous and realizing a fantasy right there in the bar. "Who have we here?" Mitch asks, lifting Jeff's shot to his own lips. "This must be one of the toys."

Jeff tries closing his eyes, hoping it will restart his brain and kick it away from the images of Mitch and Chris…Chris and Mitch…and being caught between them, but when he opens them again, Chris is there, _right the fuck there_ and the air seems ten degrees hotter than it was a minute before.

There's a current sizzling over his skin, sweat dripping down his back as Chris and Mitch take stock of each other. Mitch drops a hand on Jeff's shoulder. Chris lifts his foot to Jeff's stool, his leg touching Jeff's all casual and cool.

Except it's anything but cool. The fire burning in those two sets of eyes is going to make the bar explode if Jeff doesn't do something to get them out of there. "Chris, Mitch Pileggi. Mitch, Christian Kane."

Neither of them move for a long minute and Jeff's starting to feel like the whole bar is staring at them. "Guys, here?"

Mitch's eyes don't leave Chris. "You got a car?"

Jeff nods, fishing in his pocket for the keys. "Give the boy the keys. He's driving." Chris takes the keys, his eyes flashing. Mitch turns on his heel and stalks out of the bar. Jeff pauses to drop a few dollars on the bar, then Chris is nearly shoving him after Mitch. 

Chris climbs in behind the wheel and Mitch pushes Jeff into the back, climbing in beside him. "Drive." Mitch orders, finally taking his eyes off of Chris to stare at Jeff. Tires squeal as Chris tears them out of the parking lot and Jeff doesn't have time to ask where they're going before Mitch is on him, pressing him into the seat, his lips hot and wet and possessive as fuck, more so than Jeff can remember since that time long ago.

Chris is watching them in the review mirror, Jeff can feel his eyes. Mitch growls into his mouth, demanding his attention and Jeff's hands move to his hips, touching, squeezing. He kisses back, tongue surging against Mitch's as Chris drives them at breakneck speeds down city streets.

Suddenly the car is stopped and doors are opening. Chris has hands on Jeff, pulling on him, getting him out of the car, Mitch following, hands grabbing, pulling…then Chris has Jeff against the car, his hand between them, on Jeff's cock.

"Chris, street." Jeff manages to grind out, because one of them needed to remember that there were fucking rules and how he's the one thinking at this point is beyond him, but he gets them moving again, into the apartment Chris borrows from Steve whenever he's in town and Steve isn't, crashing through the door in a pile of bodies dominated by the hands pulling and pushing at Jeff.

Mitch takes possession of his mouth again, grinding their bodies together and shoving him into a wall as Chris seethes nearby, pulling at his shirt. When it's off and he's dropped it, Chris grabs at Jeff, pulls him away from Mitch. "Too many clothes, old man." Chris growls, his hands ripping at Jeff's shirt.

Jeff has enough presence to realize Mitch is down to just his pants as Chris closes in on his jeans, then Chris is kissing him, his tongue chasing Jeff's groan down his throat as he presses a knee up into Jeff's groin.

"Fucking hell." Jeff pants as Chris lets go of him and Mitch moves back in, pushing Jeff's pants down as Chris gets his own off.

"Oh there's gonna be fucking, boy." Mitch responds, his voice dripping with lust and ownership in a way Jeff hasn't heard in years. "I'm going to bend you over his naked ass and fuck you both."

Chris snorts beside them. "Is that what you think is gonna happen, old man?"

Mitch reaches for him, but Chris side steps him easy enough, all but his cock, which Mitch has in his strong hand before Chris really realizes it and with one squeeze and pull, Chris is on his knees in front of Jeff.

"Well, this works for me too." Mitch says, shifting his grip to Christian's hair. "You always this hard, _Christian_?"

Chris' face is a snarl of constrained emotion; lust, fury, need. "Oh you ain't seen hard." Chris yanks his head free and swallows Jeff's cock without another word, and Jeff's groan drowns out Mitch's deep laugh.

"Fiesty toy you got there, _Daddy_ Mitch says, the title all sarcastic and dirty on his lips. "You let that mouth on your boys?"

Jeff tries to find words, but he's pretty sure Chris has sucked them all out of his cock and he has to grab Mitch's shoulder to keep from falling to his knees as he comes. Hard. Fast. And Chris is grinning as he licks his lips and stands, his hand fisting in Jeff's hair to pull him in close and kiss him, sharing the salty aftertaste of Jeff's own come.

Then Mitch's hand is covering Chris' and yanking Jeff to him. They stumble backwards, the three of them, messy and tangled and Jeff isn't sure whose hands are which, but someone is stroking his super sensitive cock and someone is pinching his nipple and he keeps closing his eyes to keep from exploding from the looks alone.

Somehow Chris gets them out of the living room and down the hall into the bedroom. Jeff's legs hit the bed and hands help shove him back until he's sideways on the bed, staring up into two predatory grins.

Chris is on the bed, on Jeff's left, nipping along Jeff's ribcage and up to his nipple, biting on that until Jeff's cursing and arching up under him. Mitch goes for his thighs instead, licking up the sweat on his skin, up to his hips, sucking tiny bruises into the skin there while his hands explore down, fondling Jeff's balls and sinking down between his legs.

Jeff can't help the way his legs fall open wantonly, his body craving what Mitch isn't offering so much as he is demanding. His finger enters Jeff's ass, dry, hot, hard and Jeff mewls up into Christian's mouth as it latches on to his. "Lube." Mitch demands and Chris tears himself away long enough to dive at the bedside table and hand it off. 

Mitch moves back in, two lubed up fingers sinking into Jeff. "You want it, boy?" Mitch asks, his eyes flashing. Jeff knows what he's looking for, wills his mouth to work, licks his lips as he nods tightly.

"Yes, Sir." 

There, the grin Jeff remembers well, the one that came with permission and submission. Mitch's fingers leave him. "Knees, boy. Gonna fuck that ass…maybe make you suck on something while I do."

Jeff turns, gets his knees under him and reaches for Chris, pulls him in, kissing over his face as Mitch pushes those two fingers back in. That's all he's getting in the way of prep and he knows it. He hisses as Mitch sinks into him, his fingers tightening on Chris' hips as Chris kneels in front of him. "Fuck." Jeff gasps into Chris' stomach as Mitch shoves into him from behind. 

He can fucking feel Mitch's grin, bows his head as Chris is pulled toward Mitch, mouths clashing in a fury of lips and teeth that is nearly violent…and when Chris pulls back, when Mitch's hand in Jeff's hair pulls his head up, Chris has blood on his lip.

Mitch uses his hand in Jeff's hair to shove him at Chris' cock, which is hard and red and right in his face. Jeff open's his mouth, letting it slide into him, over his tongue, before closing his mouth and letting Mitch pull him back off it again. Chris has his hands in Jeff's hair, fighting with Mitch over who's going to control Jeff's mouth.

Jeff shoves himself back into Mitch's stroke, taking him in deep with a low groan that vibrates up and into Chris. "Damn, Jeff…fuck." Chris tilts his hips and Jeff repeats the sound, licking over the tip of Chris' cock as it slides from his lips. He's already close to coming, the taste of his pre-come on Jeff's lips. 

To be fair, Mitch isn't much behind him, his strokes fast and hard. Jeff grins up at Chris and goes after his cock, swirling his tongue over it as he takes him in, a little teeth on the up stroke and Chris is bucking his hips, fisting Jeff's hair and coming hard.

Behind him, Mitch's rhythm falters, watching Chris no doubt…the faces that boy makes when he comes, then Jeff can feel Mitch's release as well, hot and sticky inside him.

He's panting as he falls to the bed aiming at the pillows, tangling a hand in Christian's to pull him down to. The kiss is wet and messy before Jeff reaches out a hand for Mitch. They'd never really snuggled. Usually when they were done, Mitch would head for the showers and leave Jeff to sort himself out.

Chris is peppering Jeff's chest with kisses when the bed dips and Mitch is sitting against the headboard, moving so that Jeff's head rests on his thigh. A fine layer of sweat slicks his skin and Jeff looks up with a grin. "You all right?"

"I think that's my line." Mitch says, but he's smiling. His eyebrow raises at Chris, who has slid down Jeff's body and is chasing over the line of little bruises Mitch left on Jeff's hips. "He don't know how to stop?"

Jeff grins as Chris licks over his spent cock, which makes a slow attempt at a comeback before Jeff is pulling Chris back up. "He's young."

"I can go all night." Chris says with a grin. "Take you both."

Mitch reaches over Jeff, one hand tangling in Chris' hair and dragging him in to kiss over Jeff's face. "Oh, you'll get us both, boy. Promise you that."

Jeff's hand joins Mitch's and pulls Chris down to him, tasting sweat and salt and Mitch in his mouth as they kiss. 

"Beer." Chris says suddenly as they part, his eyes checking in with Jeff. 

Jeff nods and he's gone, naked ass headed for the kitchen. 

"So that's the difference between your boys and your toys?" Mitch asks.

Jeff sits up, smiling. "Well, this one anyway. Steve is…more of Christian's boy than my toy…but he's…soft and warm and he takes a paddle very well."

Mitch lifts an eyebrow and nods appreciatively as Chris returns with three beers. "Not where I expected you'd end up, boy. I'm impressed."

"He ain't told you the half of it." Chris says, clinking his bottle against Mitch's. "Because I'm betting he ain't told you about the girls."

Jeff can feel Mitch's eyes, but he's busy staring holes into Chris who only grins in response. "Girls? Oh now, do tell."


End file.
